THE BALL. 99 



Would that lie might record that the company- 

 played " blind-man's-buff," or " roll the trencher," 

 or those refined " ring plays " where healthy and 

 moral exhilaration is experienced by each man 

 hugging and kissing his partner. But his duty 

 as a historian forbids. Truth must not be muti- 

 lated through partiality for friends; and, as a 

 chronicler of facts, he is bound to say, affirm, and 

 transmit to posterity, that the company actually 

 danced ! Yes, that is the word, — danced. tern- 

 'pora ! mores ! which, freely translated, signifies, 

 " What is the world coming to ! " Eeader, pardon 

 this exhibition of virtuous feeling, this generous 

 outburst against the vices of the day. Even He- 

 rodotus could not have restrained himself, in my 

 position. But I must return to the historic style, 

 — the plain narration of facts. 



First, Uncle Palmer led off with his wife, — age 

 countenancing the foibles of youth ! Then Uncle 

 Ike Eobinson tripped down the floor with his 

 daughter. Next, ye gods ! Hubbard whirled 

 away with a nimble-footed damsel. Burns shot 

 by with little Miss Palmer, and Southwick, the 

 indomitable, careered along the floor with Jerry, 

 his guide. (Which was the lady I cannot say.) 

 And last of all, " John," the trusty, honest John, 

 whizzed past with a lovely attachment to his arm. 

 The costumes of the dancers were unique. In cut 

 and color no one could complain of sameness. 



